The Moon
September 27, 1982
Columbia, Conn.
The moon is the lord Of the darkening sky, And as I go to sleep, With Mr. Sandman in my eyes I keep wondering If the moon's a mysterious spy, The way it disappears, And comes back slyly, Changing it's shape And keeping me awake With odd patterns on my wall Some are scary And make me shiver out of fright, But some are happy, gay, and bright And put me in a daze, Whenever I gaze At their beauty -- But how I wish That just for a minute I could grasp Their loveliness Soon however Away they'll go For their magic's gone Behind a cloud Suddenly They'll all appear Dancing across my walls And slowly, slowly dancing a jig, They will lull me to sleep.